


Wuthering Winds & Beating Hearts

by masqurade



Series: The Dragon & The Knight [5]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Relationship Talk, cuz that's important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 08:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15457677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masqurade/pseuds/masqurade
Summary: “I’m beginning to question your sanity.”





	Wuthering Winds & Beating Hearts

“I’m beginning to question your sanity.”

Silas looks up from the documents in his hands to blink at the woman standing before him. It’s the first sentence Corrin has said to him all week — besides her trademark  _“leave me alone”_  anyway — and all he can do is stare at her completely dumbfounded. Whatever he has done to warrant such treatment is beyond him, and Naga save him if Corrin decides to rip his throat out with her canines if she ever deems it necessary.

“I don’t quite follow, Cor.” There. An easy enough approach.

Silas’s eyes begin to trail after the princess warily when she flops onto his bed with a huff. He waits for her to say something else and, when she doesn’t, he turns back to the papers on his desk that are practically burning for his attention. Picking up a pen, Silas manages sign three of them before Corrin speaks again.

“Ryoma is getting married.”

Silas stops writing to look up and meet her gaze. He tries to read her as he’s done many times, but all he can garner from her expression is nothing. Nothing because Corrin’s face is absolutely blank and it unnerves him a bit to not be able to know what she’s thinking, or where she is planning to take this discussion.

“I… see.” Another safe response. Silas smiles when Corrin nods. “Please give him my regards.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” she replies before rendering into silence once again.

Silas goes back to signing the documents. Although from an outsider’s perspective it may look like he’s ignoring her, it is anything but. It is simply that Silas know Corrin well –  _too_  well – and knows better than anyone that if Corrin has anything to say, she’ll say it on  _her_  time. Trying to coax answers out of her will just make her clam up, so Silas gives Corrin the space to work out her thoughts as he continues to work, avoiding pressuring her despite his growing worry and dread.

 When Silas hears Corrin draw in a deep breath, he looks up.

 “How do you feel about labels?”

 “Labels?” For a moment, an image of the many cans of food in the kitchen barracks leaves Silas dumbfounded. That can’t be right. “What type of labels? Food labels?”

 “No, not  _actual_  labels.” When Corrin sees the confusion on Silas’s face, she continues, a red flush tinting her cheeks. “I meant like…  _relationship_  labels…”

 Lover. Girlfriend.  _Wife_. The labels swirl in Silas’s mind as he starts to make a mental list.

 Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, he says, “I still need more than that to understand what’s going on here.”

 Corrin purses her lips, eyebrows knitting together in obvious frustration. “What I  _mean_  is–” She closes her eyes, rubbing her hands against her cheeks. “–What I’m  _trying to say_  is…” Her eyes meet Silas’s as her words trail off. He tries to offer up some comfort by giving her a small smile. This proves to make her stiffen as she finally says, “Do  _we_  need to label it? This.” Making a back-and-forth gesture between them with her hand, Corrin frowns. “Do  _you_  want us to label  _our_ relationship?”

 Silas studies her before standing from his seat at his desk. He makes his way over to her, watching Corrin carefully as she tenses. Reaching out for her hands (that have been glued to her sides ever since that last outburst), he runs his thumbs over her knuckles gently.

 “And what relationship would that be?” Silas asks, softly.

 When Corrin goes to study  _him_  with her piercing red eyes, he knows she will find no resentment or judgment on his face. Simply because it is nonexistent, and they both know it. Silas smiles down at her, squeezing her hands reassuringly when Corrin starts to blink rapidly, trying to get rid of the tears threatening to spill over.

 “I don’t know,” she whispers. “I don’t know. I’m so wrapped up in this war, Silas. I just  _don’t know_. And when I found out about Ryoma… He just looked so  _happy_  and  _proud_  and… And I just got to thinking about how maybe I’m depriving you of that same happiness because I can’t make up my stupid mind and I–”

 Silas takes no time in silencing Corrin’s rambling with a swift kiss on the forehead. Her mouth still open, mouth gaping, she stares at him until Silas cups her face in his hands, a smile on his face.

 “First of all, you don’t owe me anything, Cor,” Silas says, firmly. He makes sure Corrin is looking at him before pressing another kiss against her nose. “ _Never_  have I  _ever_  felt ‘deprived’ of anything. Secondly, you have given me so much happiness. Whether we put a label on whatever we have won’t change the fact that  _you make me happy_.”

 The tears come full force now, and Silas silently wipes away each one that slips down Corrin’s cheeks. Sniffing, she reaches up to place her hands over his.

 “So, no labels?”

 “No, Corrin. We don’t need a label. Not if you don’t want one.”

 Corrin grins.

 After Silas successfully wipes away the last of her tears, he bends down her presses a kiss along her jaw before whispering, “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

 “I love you,” Corrin replies.

 And just like the wuthering winds and beating hearts, the love that blows strongly between them remains the loudest, most beautiful sound in Silas’s ears.


End file.
